The Difference Between Warmth and Electricity
by AliceUnknown
Summary: "What the hell was happening? What was it about her suddenly that was making him lose himself?" In which a simple brush of the hands unravels Soul like thread.
1. Chapter 1

_..._

_This is fact, not fiction_

_For the first time in years_

_And all the girls in every girly magazine_

_Can't make me feel, any less alone..._

_-A Lack of Color, _Death Cab for Cutie

"Maka? Can you...not hold my hand for a second?"

"Eh?" Maka stared up at her weapon in confusion. "What do you mean? We're on a mission! We have to be prepared anytime for a kishin attack!"

"I know, but..." Lately, she'd been holding his hand more often on missions. 'As a precautionary measure', she claimed. And it was understandable, but at the same time, it caught Soul's attention that she'd just been doing it more often. He tried to dismiss it, but it kept creeping into his mind whenever her fingertips reached for his. He couldn't figure it out...

In any case, that wasn't the reason he was asking this of her.

"I just need to see something for a sec," he stated to answer her questioning stare. Her forehead crinkled and her eyebrows knitted together, but she abided by his request.

They had been sent to investigate the site of an explosion that looked to have been caused by Anti-Shibusen forces- possibly witches- at one of the DWMA's training camps for three-star meisters. Shibusen squad-members, along with the police, were already stationed all around the perimeter of the explosion, and had been at the sight investigating for over 24 hours. The pair were basically just there to see if there were still any witches hiding nearby- and for that, Maka's incredibly sensitive Soul Perception was needed. There had been cases in the past when witches had been disguised as police officers and had their Soul protect on. Still, the scene wasn't a very dangerous one, and Soul saw no reason for Maka to be clasping hands with him, as if a witch might be lurking around the corner and it was necessary for Soul to be close to Maka, in order for her to wield him when he'd take his scythe form.

As soon as Maka's fingers slid down Soul's bare palm, though, he felt..._cold_, almost. Not really _cold_ as much as, the warmth that not only enveloped his hand when hers was touching it dissolved, but so did the warmth that had rushed up his arm and into his body. The warmth- it wasn't just a _heat_ that dissolved, either, but more of a sense of calmness. He felt good knowing that Maka was right beside him, in contact with him, _touching _him_._ He knew that she was right there with him, and no unknown force would take her- his beloved meister- away from him.

That was another thing- the warmth. She had only recently decided to not use her meister gloves anymore. She had said that the gloves were used because she had still been a _beginner_, and therefore her hands were not yet tough enough. Now that she had successfully created a deathscythe, she figured that gloves would be unnecessary.

Soul thought that this was a reasonable explanation, but now, when her gloves were abandoned back at the apartment and Maka's hands were left uncovered, whenever Soul took her hand, he couldn't help but to notice how comfortably _warm_ they were. And they were unexpectedly soft, too. Albeit, they weren't oh-so soft-to-the-touch or anything along those lines. Just much smoother than Soul had expected.

And they were such petite hands, too. It was amazing how she could flawlessly wield him- even when he became a deathscythe and his staff widened- and twirl him between her fingers without hardly ever dropping him when they were such tiny fingers.

What was even more amazing was how much comfort and warmth those small little hands could give him.

But now, that warmth was quickly fading away. Maka dropped her hand back by her side, and Soul did the same. He paused, noting how cold his hand suddenly became, while Maka simply continued to stare up at him, wanting an explanation.

And suddenly, he wanted to snatch her hand back, and not let go of it. No matter how ridiculously, repulsively uncool it sounded. Her hand just...fit. It made some sort of sense for her hand to be in his.

He didn't snatch her hand back, though. Instead, he looked back down at her inquiring expression and nodded. He stretched his hand back out for her to take it.

She looked it over for a second. "Um...Soul, are...are you okay?" She cautiously slipped her hand back into his. Instantly, that warmth returned. It flooded up through his arm and spread throughout his body. Such a pleasant feeling, it was. Like the feeling of being close to the sun. The same warmth.

"Yeah," Soul replied. "Never felt better."

….

In the end, after about two and a half hours of wandering and searching the ruins of the training camp, the two couldn't find any witches in hiding nearby. Maka _did_ find some traces of magic near the center of the explosion, though. The Shibusen squads had theorized that the bomb itself was created by witches, but they'd flown over the area and dropped them so no witch traces would be left behind.

The search had worn the two out, and the drive home on Soul's motorcycle was a long one. When they returned home in the evening, they decided to just call it an evening. They had to report their findings early in the morning to Shinigami-sama.

Soul kept churning over the thoughts and questions he'd been having earlier that day over and over in his mind. Maka had taken his hand and held on to it for basically the rest of the day, even though she'd said herself that there was practically no danger at all. Soul didn't have the guts to ask why she insisted on holding his hand then- and frankly, he didn't want her to stop. It was an eerie place to be exploring. All the bodies had been collected, and everyone who was injured had been sent to the hospital already, but the blood was still in the process of being cleaned up. There weren't that many casualties, as many of the meisters had already left the camp and headed home, but some had still lingered at the camp to talk to some of the counselors or pack what they may have forgotten. Blood was spattered on every wall (or what was left of the walls) and Soul wouldn't felt too comfortable with Maka not near him anyway-

"SOUL-KUN~!"

Soul snapped out of his thoughts when Blair glomped him, in all of her barely-dressed glory, as he walked through the door.

"Nya~ I'm so glad Maka-chan and my widdle Soul-kun made it back okay! I was getting so worried~! Did those scary witches do anything to my precious Maka-chan or Soul-kun, nyaa~?"

Soul's efforts to make any sound at all were muffled by Blair's chest that she deliberately shoved Soul's face into.

It could have been worse, Soul thought. Really, it could've. At least he didn't get awful nosebleeds like he used to. He had grown so used to this routine that his nosebleeds had greatly subsided, to the point where he didn't even feel so much as a trickle anymore. In addition to trying new and more scandalous lingerie, Blair had even tried using different methods to induce them- such as turning back into a human unexpectedly when she rested on Soul's stomach for an afternoon nap, or crawling under his bedsheets in the middle of the night, just to turn right back into a human- but nothing worked.

Soul was beginning to realize that the problem didn't reside in the witchy cat, but in himself. At some point, he just stopped feeling any attraction to Blair. Her seductive figure and lack of _any_ appropriate clothing just held no appeal anymore. Rather, instead of getting frustrated or annoyed or mildly attracted to her, he now felt... lonely, almost. Every sexual hug, every flirtatious '_nya_~', just made him feel _down. _He could not for the life of him figure out what it was, but it was as if...he was just bored of her.

It wasn't just Blair, either. He had never once read a partnership request letter, but now, finding them in his locker just pissed him off. For a _year_ now, he'd been a deathscythe, and he'd never changed partners then. Why did people still think that he'd be interested now? He had a very nice partnership already with the person who _made_ him into a deathscythe in the first place. It was idiotic to think that he'd actually _trade partners, now._ But again, he knew that wasn't the only reason he felt so ticked off.

Something else must have been a factor in these sudden changes, but...

"MAKA CHOP!"

For the second time that day, Soul's thoughts were interrupted- this time by a very loud shout and the new, hardcover edition of Websters Illustrated Encyclopedia, Volume 16 being slammed into his skull.

"OW, goddammit, what the-!"

"Oh~!" Blair had removed Soul from her bosom promptly when she saw Maka entering the room, feigning innocence. The next thing he new, Soul had been Maka-chopped beyond repair. Blair turned back into her cat form with a puff of smoke and a wink, and escaped to Maka's room for safety. Soul picked himself up off the floor, still limp, and sat down on the couch.

"Hey!" Soul began. "What was that about? How many times do we have to go through this? I didn't do anything, _she_ shoved _me_ into her-!"

"Yeah, yeah," Maka shooed it away with a wave of her hand. "I know, I know. Hey, did you take notes in Stein's class yesterday? 'Cause I can't seem to find mine, and I'm pretty sure BlackStar stole them." She pursed her lips in annoyance at the thought of her blue-haired friend.

Soul raised a brow. "Maka. In the entire time you've known me, have I _ever_ taken notes?"

She sighed. "Didn't think so. Just had to check. Meh, I'll get them from Tsubaki later." With that, she plopped down next to him on the couch. "So, what's on tv?"

Soul's other brow now shot up. Kid would've been proud. "Tv? As in television? You hardly ever watch tv."

"I know!" Maka said, irritated at him a little. "I'm just so exhausted. I don't feel like studying. I don't think I can. I won't be able to absorb any of it."

"Now you know how I feel every time I look at our textbooks." He took the remote and turned the tv on, scrolling through until he was satisfied with whatever was on, and then put it back on the sofa cushion, resting his hand on it.

Maka shook her head, her loose pigtails whipping as she did so. "No, you're just lazy."

Soul smirked. "Whatever you say."

Maka leaned forward, facing the tv screen with an inquisitive expression. "What are you even watching?"

He hadn't really been paying attention. He had just settled for some old basketball game he was pretty sure was from two nights ago. "Dunno."

Maka huffed, and reached for the remote. "Well, I think there's a show on that..." She brushed her hand against his, nudging it off to retrieve it.

And there it was again.

It was different this time from when they went on missions, though. Then, he wanted to be touching her hand because it felt _safe_. It was good to know that she was right next to him, and she wasn't going anywhere. It was good to know that, if in a moment of danger, he'd be right next to her in case she needed protection. It was _good_ in general. It brought about an assuring warmth in his palm. It made Soul feel that everything was okay, for the moment.

But this time was different. There was no urge bubbling in him to have her near for safety measures. It wasn't reassuring to have her hand near him, as there was no sense of danger building in him- no need to protect her. With both of them sitting right next to each other, watching mindless tv as the day faded away, Soul felt no particular reason to keep her near to him.

Instead of feeling a comfortable warmth spread through him at her touch, it was more like a jolt of magnetic electricity was shooting through him- a subtle adrenaline rush, but he wanted to keep bringing their hands closer and closer...

"Soul? Did you hear what I said?"

"What?" Soul shot his head up, his thoughts dissolving yet again. "Sorry, what was that?"

"I said that I think there's an anime on that I've been wanting to watch."

"Oh," Soul replied, still a little fuzzy. "Okay, then."

She paused. "What? No teasing me? No name calling? No, 'Oi, Maka, can you get any nerdier?'"

"Oh, um..." Soul tried to collect his thoughts, but his brain wasn't responding well at the moment.

Maka frowned. "What's with you lately? You've been spacing out a lot."

"Oh, I, um-"

"It's only six thirty. You can't really be that tired now, are you?"

"Well, that's not-"

"Oh, Shinigami," Maka looked concerned. "Did I Maka-chop you too hard? Look, I'm sorry, alright? I didn't really intend to swing my hand down that hard-"

"Maka! Just...just shut up for a second, okay?" Soul said with a heavy sigh.

Maka looked stunned. Soul had never been the type to blow his top. He'd always been the one advising _her_ to control her emotions better.

Soul immediately recognized his mistake when he saw the look in her eyes. He'd never _really_ yelled at her, except when they'd gotten into the occasional fight. He'd never been the one to say something like that out of the blue. _Damn it_, he thought. _This shit's messing with my head._ To be fair, he was still half-trying to gather his thoughts, and half-trying to formulate an answer to Maka's question when she kept interrupting him. Still...he wasn't getting why these sudden feelings had arisen, and her being in his face and demanding answers wasn't helping in the least.

"Jeez..." Maka scoffed, her deer-in-the-headlights look shifting into one of offense and frustration. "I'm so sorry for asking what's wrong with my _partner_." She stood up, emitting an eerily cold atmosphere. "I guess I'll just study anyways-"

"Maka!"

Soul didn't really understand what was happening. It was like he blanked out, and some other, much more impulsive part of his brain took over. The next think he knew, he was tightly grabbing onto Maka's wrist, holding her back from leaving the living room.

What the...

This seriously was not like him at all. Not in the least. High-tempered and impulsive? What was this. He always had such a good grip on his actions and emotions. But suddenly, all that was being swept out the door, and he was losing control of himself.

"Wh...?" Maka was at a loss for words. Apparently, she was realizing the same thing he was. All she could find herself doing was to look down at Soul, into his eyes, which mirrored the same confusion she was sure hers held.

Nothing moved. _No one_ moved. Everything was at a standstill.

And then Soul dropped his head. Followed by the dropping of his hand. And he steadily looked back at the tv screen, regaining his poker face and acting as if absolutely nothing had just happened, while Maka remained frozen in place.

_Goddammit!_ Soul angrily thought to himself, though his face now betrayed nothing.

What the hell was happening? What was it about her suddenly that was making him lose himself? Why in Shinigami's name was his unraveling like thread?

He kept his eyes trained on the television now, though he could feel the burn of Maka's blank stare hitting him with full force. He would _not_ make his eyes waver. He _would not_ open his mouth to say another thing. What he _would_ do, however, was continue for the rest of the night as if nothing had happened, then think up some nonchalant lie he could tell Maka that would explain for his sudden and rash behavior. And _then, _he would force the warmth and electricity that came with maka's touch out of his mind for all of eternity.

"I, um..." Maka started. Nothing else would come out of her mouth, though. So she effectively shut it and turned to walk out of the room.

When he heard the door to Maka's room shut, Soul breathed a sigh of relief, and slumped down into the cushions.

He was normally so good at figuring these things out. He had always been able to connect his actions and feelings to logic. But whenever he tried to figure it out- whenever he ran them through his mind and played them over and over again like a cassette tape- he always came up with nada. It was the damnedest thing too, because he would feel the answer on the tip of his tongue, but could never grasp it before the sensation faded away. It was like the solution was staring him right in the face, peering directly into his eyes, trying so hard to convey itself to him, but there was a thick wall between he and it that simply would not disappear.

"Damn..." Soul mumbled. "This sucks."

….

A/N: Oh my god. Oh my god, guys, I _did_ it. I WROTE this bastard. Wow.

Lol, okay, so this is a Oneshot at the moment, but if enough people review, I'll try to make it a Twoshot. Except, I only have a few days before school starts, so...hurry. XD, But seriously, review~!

By the way, I will figuratively mail a check for one hundred dollars to anyone who writes a SoMa using the song _Where We Gonna Go From Here _by Mat Kearny. I will. (Not). But pleeeaasee dooo . It'd make me the happiest person ever! (Then send me a message saying that you wrote it, because I hardly ever check the FanFiction archives nowadays XD)

Double by the way, I HIGHLY recommend checking out the song _A Lack of Color_ by Death Cab for Cutie. The one used at the beginning. It's one of my favorite songs of all time. So, yeah. X3

~ . : R E V I E W : . ~


	2. Chapter 2

.

_I need some sleep_

_I can't go on like this_

_Tried counting sheep_

_But there's one I always miss_

~_Need Some Sleep_, Eels

Stupid.

This whole thing was stupid.

Maka groaned as she shifted onto her side in the bed, the covers thrown over her head. It's been an hour now that she'd been tossing and turning in her sheets, contemplating what the hell was wrong with her today. Ever since Soul yelled at her, she'd been acting irrationally. Actually, no. Before that.

For a while now, she'd steadily been coming to accept the fact that she was- dare she admit it-_ falling for her partner._ Which was a definite no-no. She'd been losing her composure. Everything was becoming awkward. How did she use to behave and act around him? It was all just a mess of Maka-chops and studying now.

When he yelled at her, it hadn't even been that bad. Honestly, the thing that freaked her out the most was that she was being annoying. She kept on talking and going on and on, failing to notice that Soul was even trying to say something. Was she usually like that? And if so, no wonder Soul was getting fed up with her.

She had acted without consciousness. The next thing she knew, she was saying something that sounded awfully cold and stand-offish, and she was turning away. Why did she always have to default to that? But she knew the answer. She didn't want things between them to change. So she had to act like she normally would. Except, that was becoming a near impossibility.

And then, he had to go and reach out to her.

This was the thing she didn't understand the most.

There was an electric current passing between them. It was magnetic. She wanted to reach in farther. This was bad. She needed to get out. She needed to pull her hand back, above all else. She needed to back away before she did something stupid. Still, Maka found herself unable to do so. Her mind was clouded with questions; why did he do that? Why was he looking up at her with an expression she just couldn't analyze? Why was his gaze so goddamn enticing? She thought she may have made a noise, but nothing was really making sense.

And then he looked away, and dropped her hand, and there was no risk of her doing something stupid anymore.

Maka stood there. Like an_ idiot_. Her mind refused to function properly. After a minute, her body finally began to act on it's own accord, and she quietly retreated into her room.

That one action of him reaching for her gave her the smallest glimpse of hope.

Maka rolled over on her back. It was quiet. Soul had gone back into his room, shutting off the television and leaving a vast absence of noise in his leave. Maka was restless. The quiet left a strange ringing in her ears. Her breathing was irregular, and she found herself curling and uncurling her toes with anxiety.

Things were undoubtedly changing between her and Soul. Maka didn't know how much longer she'd be able to go on pretending everything was perfectly normal and nothing had changed. All she wanted was stasis. There was nothing wrong with their relationship up until recently. She wasn't going to mess up a strong partnership such as theirs for a few minor...setbacks.

Maka sighed, rolling back on her side and bringing her knees up to her chin.

It was gonna be a long day tomorrow.

A/N: I should probably continue this.

This one was much shorter than the last, since I'm just trying to establish how the whole thing went in Maka's eyes. The next chapter (if I make one) will be much longer than this.

Lul, there's probably a million typos. I didn't check. I'm terrible. And I probably got my third person-present tense and third person-past tense mixed up A LOT. But anyways.

**~ME GUSTA REVIEWS!~**


End file.
